


Sick Day

by Thei



Series: Babysitting [6]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: (if you count taking care of a sick teenager as "babysitting" which I totally do), Accidental Eavesdropping, Babysitting, Billy is sick, Harringrove, Joyce is awesome (but what else is new?), M/M, Steve is a little worried and doesn't want to leave him alone, hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 13:13:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17767445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thei/pseuds/Thei
Summary: Joyce had been surprised when Steve called her at work, and at first she’d thought something was wrong.The real surprise came when she understood what he was asking.“– and he’s just sick, you know, and I’m letting him stay at my place but my parents are expecting me to go to this thing and I just hate leaving him alone, so … I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind … maybe checking in on him on your way home from work?”





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this in the back of my head for a month or so, but I finished it for the Harringrove Week Of Love, February 13th, prompt: "Holding hands". The hand-holding is just a tiny part of this fic, but it gave me the motivation to finish it so. *shrugs*
> 
> (Also I'm home sick right now so I get how miserable Billy feels in this fic.)
> 
> As usual, it is not beta'd. :)

“I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

Steve looked down at Billy, who was blinking blearily up at his boyfriend from where he was lying in Steve’s bed. Even though he was covered by every blanket Steve could find, he was still shivering, and his eyes were glossy with fever.

“Mmm‘kay”, Billy murmured and closed his eyes, burrowing deeper into the pillow.

“What? Babe, what did you say?”

Billy sighed, eyes still closed, and licked his dry lips.

“I’m”, he said. “Gunna be ‘kay.”

Steve frowned. He reached out to run his fingers through Billy’s tangled curls, and could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Billy relaxed when Steve gently raked his fingernails over the back of his head, and made a little displeased noise when Steve eventually withdrew.

“I’m sorry”, Steve said. “I have to go. But Billy –“

He waited, and when he didn’t get a reaction, he gently shook Billy by the shoulders. Billy turned bleary eyes on Steve, who pointed to the bedside table.

“– there is water and juice right here. You have Tylenol and fruit, and I put the phone close enough for you to reach. I taped the phone number to the hotel to the phone, and I want you to call _immediately_ if you want me to come back. I don’t care how important this is to my parents – one call from you, and I’m out of there, okay?”

“Mm.”

“Did you get all that, babe?”

Billy lolled his head in something that was probably supposed to be a nod, and tried to look serious. It was ruined by his inability to focus his eyes properly, and Steve couldn’t help but smile affectionately.

“Come on, you need to use your words, so I know you understand.”

“Fu’off. Tha’s two wor’s.”

Steve smiled softly, and leaned in to place a kiss on Billy’s temple.

“I don’t want to go.”

“‘ra good boyfrien’.”

Steve huffed out a laugh and put his forehead to Billy’s.

“I feel like the worst boyfriend ever. Leaving you alone when you’re sick.”

Billy’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Better’en bein’ home.”

Steve smiled, but it was brittle. He gently ran the back of his fingers over Billy’s cheek one last time before he stood up. Billy didn’t seem to notice – he looked to be asleep already.

Steve turned the light off, but didn’t close the door all the way. He grabbed his coat and his car keys, and went for the front door. Just before leaving, though, he hesitated. Went back into the kitchen and grabbed the phone from the wall. Dug through the little phone book next to the phone to find the right number, dialed it, and waited until someone answered.

“Hello, Joyce? This is Steve, sorry to call on you like this …”

 

Joyce had been surprised when Steve called her at work – because even after everything they’d gone through, and how close he seemed to be with Will’s group of friends (and – perhaps strangely, all things considered – Nancy and Jonathan) they didn’t have that kind of relationship – and at first she’d thought something was wrong.

The real surprise came when she understood what he was asking.

“– and he’s just sick, you know, and I’m letting him stay at my place but my parents are expecting me to go to this thing and I just hate leaving him alone, so … I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind … maybe checking in on him on your way home from work?”

She didn’t answer, too overwhelmed by his stream of words to form a reply. He must have taken her silence as hesitation, because he continued.

“I mean, you don’t have to stay, just maybe make sure he’s still in bed and, you know, _breathing_ –“

“Steve”, Joyce interrupted, finally silencing him. “Of course I’ll check in on your friend.”

From what she’d heard, that friend was the same boy who had acted like an asshole to Will’s friends and beaten Steve bloody just last year – and, she realized with a jolt, broken one of her plates over his head – but things changed so quickly when you were a teenager. Enemies one day, friends the next. Nothing was written in stone when you were seventeen. She knew that better than most.

“Thank you”, Steve sighed, and she could hear the relief in his voice. “You know where I live?”

“Yes, Steve”, she said wryly – everyone in Hawkins knew where the Harringtons lived, and she had even been over a couple of times, years ago.

“Okay, so I’m leaving the key in the big flower pot to the left of the door. The first one. And then when you get inside, Billy’s in my room, that’s the first on the right on the second floor. Maybe just … refill his water, or whatever? I don’t–“

“Why Steve”, Joyce couldn’t help but tease him. “It’s like you think I don’t know how to take care of a sick boy. What kind of mother do you take me for?”

There was a momentary silence on the other end, and Joyce was suddenly reminded of an offhand comment someone had made recently, about how Steve’s parents spent so much time out of Hawkins. Before she had the chance to say anything, though, Steve chuckled a little over the phone.

“Sorry, Joyce. I’m just … Thank you.”

“No problems, hun. Do you want me to check in on him tomorrow before I start working, as well?”

“Would you? That would be great, thank you so much.”

After exchanging pleasantries, and after she’d made Steve promise to come over for dinner some time – she said he could bring his friend, which startled a nervous laugh out of him – they hung up, and she went back to work.

 

When she drove her little car up the Harringtons’ fancy driveway after work, she felt a little intimidated at the size of the place, even though she quickly shook if off. She grabbed the plastic bag she’d packed at work in one hand, found the key Steve had left for her, and let herself in.

It seemed to be the kind of house where you took your shoes off when you entered, so she did that before taking the stairs up to the second floor.

There were a couple of lights on here and there, but overall the house was pretty dark. The door to Steve’s room was slightly ajar, and there was no lamps on at all in there. The only light in the room was coming in through the blinds. Instead of turning the overhead lamp on, Joyce opened the door fully to let in the light from the hallway. She saw a bundle on the bed, and walked closer.

The bundle revealed itself to be a boy, covered in blankets up to his nose. His eyes were closed and he didn’t stir even when she put her hand on his forehead. He was warm, and his skin felt clammy. Definitely a fever, then.

On the bedside table, there was an array of items that made Joyce smile. She had half of those things in her bag, in case Steve hadn’t thought of them, but she was starting to realize that Steve cared enough about this boy to not take any chances; what with him calling her at work to make sure someone checked in on him, and all.

It made her care a little, too. She reached out a hand to turn on the lamp on the table. The sudden light made the boy frown a little, but he didn’t otherwise react, which was … a little worrying, actually.

“Billy?”

She shook him gently by the shoulder, but all he did was furrow his brow and let out a breath in something like a sigh. So she shook him again, more insistently, and was rewarded when his eyes fluttered open. But he didn’t seem to see her. He just blinked against the light and made a little sound in the back of his throat.

She put her hand on his forehead again, and was surprised when he seemed to melt under her touch; relaxing and closing his eyes again.

“Billy?” she tried again. “How are you feeling? Do you want some water?”

He didn’t actually reply, but he tried to look up at her so she took it as a ‘yes’. She poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand and then helped him tilt his head up so he could drink from it. She thought he looked aware enough, but when he’d swallowed a couple of mouthfuls, he licked his lips, looked her in the eye and said, “Mom?” in a voice so small it broke her heart.

“No, honey, I’m not your mom”, she said, a little unsteadily, and ran a thumb over his cheek. He leaned into her touch, perhaps without conscious thought, and looked a little confused. “But I’m going to take care of you, don’t you worry. Have you eaten today?”

He just kept looking at her as if he knew her, and she gave him a weak smile.

“You just rest a little more, and I’m going to go and see if I can’t whip up some soup for you, okay? Go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up in a minute.”

He was way more pliable than his reputation had led her to expect, but then again – he didn’t seem to be all that aware of his surroundings at the moment. She brushed his hair out of his face and watched his eyes close before she stood up and exited the room.

The first thing she did was to locate the phone in the kitchen and call home, telling Jonathan that she had to take care of something after work and might be home late, and could he please make dinner for himself and Will? Jonathan agreed, like Joyce knew he would, and she smiled to herself as she hung up the phone.

The second thing she did was to bring her bag into the Harringtons’ big kitchen and snoop through their cupboards and their refrigerator. She had soup to make.

 

It was after eleven that night when Joyce heard someone fumbling with a key at the front door. She put down her cup of tea on the kitchen table and went to meet whoever it was, so that she wouldn’t frighten them – but when she got out into the hallway, she was met with Steve, who was wearing a fancy coat and was just putting his keys away in a little bowl on a table. He startled when he saw her, and then immediately blushed.

“Joyce! I … didn’t think you’d still be here!”

“Sorry if I scared you.”

“No, no …” Steve said as he shrugged out of his coat, eyes drifting to the stairs. “But … why? I mean, he’s … he’s okay, right?”

“Yeah”, Joyce said, “he’s okay. I think his fever has gone down a bit, actually. I’ve made him drink lots of water, and I managed to make him eat some soup – there’s leftovers in the fridge, if you want, for later.”

Steve smiled, relieved. “That’s great, Joyce, thank you. But … You shouldn’t have stayed. I mean, what if you get sick now, I wouldn’t want to–“

She waved his concern away. “I was sick last week – got it from Will, who got it from someone in school, probably. This thing has been going around for a while. I probably won’t catch it again.”

“I hope not”, Steve said, a little awkwardly and glanced at the stairs again. Joyce could feel his need to go up and check on his friend, so she smiled and patted his shoulder.

“Why are you home so early though? I thought you said you wouldn’t be home until tomorrow?”

Steve shrugged and opened his mouth, but didn’t seem to be able to come up with an answer right away. Joyce struggled not to let her amusement show, and to keep her face neutral. In the end, she saved him by continuing, “Well, I should be heading home. I was actually on my way already, I was just going to check up on Billy one more time before leaving. But now when you’re here, you can do it.”

Steve smiled in relief. “I will, Joyce, thanks again. I really appreciate it, and just let me know if there’s ever anything I can do to help.”

“Oh, Steve”, she said and patted his cheek. “You do enough already. Always driving those kids around, keeping an eye on them. This was no trouble, really. Now go, check on your friend. I’ll let myself out.”

His smile widened. “Thanks. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

She took her time to get ready. Picked up the items she’d put on the counter and put them back in her bag, cleaned her teacup and put it away where she took it, wiped off the counter. When she was ready to go, she remembered that she’d taken her jacket off in Steve’s room, and it was probably still there. So she walked up the stairs again, intent on taking her jacket and leaving.

But then she heard hushed voices from the doorway to Steve’s room, and couldn’t help listening in.

“–missed you.”

“Mmm, but your … parents?”

“I doubt they even noticed me leaving. I showed up, I kissed ass for a couple of hours, and then I left. Why should I stay at a hotel overnight when I could just as easily drive home to be here with you?”

“Not exactly … the bes’ company righ’ now.”

“Oh shut up. Aren’t you always the one to tell me you’re such a _delight at all times_? And that I should be _happy_ that I get to spend time with you _at all_?”

A huff of breath, then, “Love you.”

A pause, before, softly; “I love you too.”

Joyce decided, suddenly, that she didn’t need her jacket right now. Silently, she turned and snuck down the stairs. Put on her shoes, went outside and carefully shut the door behind her.

She smiled to herself during the whole drive home.

 

The next morning, she decided to go by the Harrington house to pick up her jacket and see how the boys were doing, so she left home ten minutes earlier than usual. She considered ringing the doorbell, but it was early and she didn’t want to wake them up if they were asleep – they could both use their rest, after all; Billy because he was sick, and Steve because he’d made a long drive last night. When she discovered that the door was still unlocked, she wasn’t terribly surprised, and was thus prepared for the sight that greeted her when she opened the door to Steve’s room after climbing the stairs.

Billy had scooted back on the bed to make room for Steve, who was lying on his back next to him. Steve was still wearing the same clothes he had been wearing last night, as if had simply crawled into bed as soon as Joyce had left. Billy was curled up against him, with his head in the crook of Steve’s neck, and their fingers were intertwined and resting on Steve’s stomach. Early morning light was coming in from the window, touching Billy’s shoulder and Steve’s face, making the whole scene even more serene.

They looked … peaceful.

Joyce let out a breath and took a couple of steps into the room to grab her jacket, which she had discarded over the back of a chair last night. As she grabbed it, she noticed movement from the bed, and when she looked over, she met with wide blue eyes who were watching her every move.

When Billy saw her looking, his eyes darted to where he and Steve were holding hands, and he drew in a sharp breath and made to – no doubt – yank his hand away. But before he could, Joyce held up her hands.

“No, no, you’ll wake him”, she whispered. That seemed to be enough to halt Billy, who still looked tense and wide-eyed, as if he was expecting the worst. Her face softened.

“It’s okay. I just came by to grab my jacket.” She held it up to show him. “Forgot it last night.”

She saw him frown – and although he looked a lot better than last night, he was still flushed and his eyes still had a glassy sheen to them, so she wasn’t sure he remembered her.

“I was here yesterday”, she clarified. “Steve asked me to check up on you.”

At the mention of Steve’s name, Billy relaxed a fraction. He briefly looked down at Steve’s sleeping face, and their interlocked hands, before he looked back up.  She made sure to give him a warm smile and a nod.

“It’s good to see that you’re feeling better. Make sure to drink lots of water, and try to eat something, even if it’s just soup. Tell Steve I stopped by, when he wakes up, and to call me if you need anything.”

Billy, still looking confused – but, she was happy to note, less terrified – nodded. Wet his lips. His voice, when he spoke, was hoarse.

“Uh, thank you, ma’am.”

She gave a low laugh. “I held you and fed you soup yesterday, Billy, I think we’re passed the ‘ma’am’-stage. I’m Joyce.”

And maybe it was the fever, but his face looked a little more flushed all of a sudden. He looked down. Bit his lip.

“Thank you. Joyce.”

She could sense his uneasiness from across the room, so she smiled again as she put on her jacket.

“Don’t mention it. Take care of yourself now … and Steve, too.”

He looked up in surprise. She indicated their hands, and said, “I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”

And he looked at her as if – maybe, just maybe – he could believe her.

 

It wasn’t three days later when Steve shuffled into the store during Joyce’s shift, looking worse for wear. His nose was red and his lips were dry, but he managed to muster up a smile for her when he stood at the other side of the counter with the items. She raised an eyebrow.

“Already out of Tylenol, Steve? I remember you had a full bottle just days ago.”

“I … uh, I sent it home with Billy, in case he needed it? I thought I had more, but …”

He shrugged, and Joyce smiled at him.

“You’re a good friend, Steve. Do you still have some of the soup I left?”

“No, I … sent that with Billy, too.“

“All right, then. I’m coming over, after work, and making you more. No buts, mister! Go home, drink lots of water and make sure you’re well taken care of.” She grinned at him, knowingly. “You could call your friend to come over and keep you company. I doubt he’ll catch the same cold twice.”

**Author's Note:**

> ... and one more (can't stop, won't stop!). This time it's Joyce who's doing the babysitting, for Reasons (the reasons being that I am sick at the moment, so I needed to have Billy sick and Steve being caring and for the two of them to be sweet together).


End file.
